Rats
by yohlenyaoilover
Summary: During his imprisonment in the confines of MI6 headquarters, Silva can't help but get a little flustered under the gaze of Agent 007. PWP 007Silva SoloM


A shameless PWP that I wrote just after the film came out. Couldn't decide if it was worth posting or not, but as not much else is getting itself written I thought I'd share this with you guys.

Enjoy!

007Silve007Silva007Silva

The seat was hard and cold beneath him, the lights too bright. He had to squint his eyes against them. His prison smelt of steel and disinfectant. It was a smell that took him back to his childhood; of hospitals and men in uniforms.

Silva's plan was working perfectly.

He sat calmly in his container, under the ever present watch of 007. Silva smiled coyly at the other agent and stretched his arms up, letting out a small moan as the muscles in his back pulled pleasantly. The cheap polyester of his prisoner's uniform scratched at his skin. How he missed his fine silk shirts and tailored sports jackets. Although, he couldn't deny that he'd enjoyed the feel of men's hands on his body as they stripped him of his old clothes and forced his limbs in to this unflattering jumpsuit. And all under that insistent gaze.

Silva felt his body heat under the stare. Bond was all he had hoped he would be. Fit and lean, beautiful blue eyes.

When he had first seen him there, tied to that chain with his legs casually spread, it was all Silva could do not to drop to his knees before him and devour him whole.

And now, sitting in that small glass cell with Bond's eyes burning in to him, it was hard for Silva to keep his loins under control. It didn't matter that there as a second security guard in there with them, Bond only had eyes for him.

It was a strange feeling, and one Silva wasn't used to. He was never the subject of gazes; not since his leave from MI6. Back in his day he had men and women both falling before him but now, now he was just a shell of his former self.

Bond's eyes made him feel young and reckless. They endlessly stripped him of his clothing and molested him. He could almost feel Bond's hands on his skin, feather light and provocative.

"Bond," The sound of his voice breaking the silence made the security guard jump but Bond remained motionless.

"Bond. James," Silva rolled the name over his tongue and found he liked how it tasted. Only the slightest raise of Bond's eyebrow showed that he had heard. The gesture held a hint of amusement.

Silva smiled widely in response. Now that he had tasted James' name we wanted more.

"James," He said it again. And again. And again, "James, James."

Each utterance was breathier than the last until he found himself on his knees, one hand pressed against the glass of his cell and the other pressed against his aching length.

He moaned the name again and saw the security guard shift uncomfortably. And still Bond remained unmoving, both hands clasped lightly behind his back, his sports jacket and finely pressed shirt stretched taut across his muscled chest. All that had changed was the smirk now pulling one corner of his mouth upwards.

It was driving Silva crazy. He bit his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut. His mind replayed the moment on his island; Bond's sweet skin beneath his fingertips. How he was wishing now that he had delayed going outside to play with guns when he could have been enjoying the treat before him.

When Silva opened his eyes again Bond had moved. Just a fraction closer, his legs a fraction further apart. The agent's head was turned just to the side. Barely noticeable to the average eye, but enough for Silva to pick up on.

He groaned loudly and palmed himself roughly as he realised what the other man was doing. Legs spread, arms clutched behind his back; Bond was emulating that vision from Silva's thoughts. As if the arrogant bastard knew exactly what was playing in his mind.

Silva chuckled lightly as he stopped touching himself in favour of pulling the zipper of his jumpsuit down. Bond's smirk widened.

"Enough of that!" The other security guard said forcefully, averting his eyes as Silva pulled his hard, reddened shaft from its confines.

"Do you plan on going in there to stop him?" Bond's smooth voice shook Silva. It was deep and held amusement in it. The security guard, who had taken a step forward with a hand placed on his baton, dropped his hands to his sides and flushed a dull red and fell silent.

Silva thumbed the head of his prick and drew in a deep breath through his nose. Bond had widened his stance a little more. The cloth over his crotch now pulled tight. He wanted to touch him. He wanted to feel the heavy weight of Bond's balls in his hands. He wanted to bury himself in the soft skin there and taste the essence of 007.

Oh, how he wished his could have Bond inside him, joined together in a way they could only dream of.

Lust coiled in his stomach as he pumped his fist faster along the length of his cock. It wasn't _enough_. Silva lent his forehead against the cool glass but he found his breath fogged and obscured his vision of the other agent. His fingers clawed and scratched at the smooth surface whilst his other hand worked frantically at his hardness. He thrust his hips in time with his hand and tightened his grasp, imagined it was Bond squeezing around him.

His eyes met Bond's as the fog cleared and he seemed closer that ever, bulge pressing insistently against his clean pressed trousers.

Pleasure hummed inside Silva, heat building low in his groin and up his spine. Bond's eyes dropped from his and focused instead on his hand and the magic it worked between his thighs.

"James," Silva moaned and pressed his forehead against the glass again. He could feel his release building.

007 mouthed something to him just before his own hand came unlinked from behind his back. Bond gave himself one squeeze through his trousers and it was enough to make Silva come.

His hand worked furiously at his length as he panted and groaned through his orgasm. Hot come shot out in white ribbons, and Silva was sure to catch it in his free hand.

After he was spent, Silva clumsily tucked himself away with his clean hand and zipped himself back up. He rose to his full height and locked eyes with the other agent again. That sharp, intense look that made him feel young and reckless was back.

He brought his sticky, dirty hand to his mouth and licked the come away. He made a show of it. Each finger was licked clean as if it were honey.

When he had cleaned his hand thoroughly, Silva moaned in contentment and seated himself back down on the cold metal bench in the centre of his cage.

It was with the taste of come on his tongue and Bond's words in his ears that he turned to face M again for the first time in years.

"_I guess we are both just rats."_

End


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